Secrets Revealed
by Milady of the Valley
Summary: Jacqueline is exposed! The guards are on her tail and the musketeers can only hold them off for so long. Now what? Should she give herself in and beg for forgiveness or should she run and leave everything she's learned to love behind?
1. Chapter 1

Secrets Revealed Preface 

**Ok, this is just the preface guys. It kinda goes back and forth between past and present so I hope it's not too confusing. I'm starved for feedback so please oblige!**

_Mazarin hasn't won yet_, Jacqueline told herself as she rode quickly through the woods. Sure he had handfuls of guards after her, wanted posters slapped on every street corner, and warrant upon warrant out for her arrest. He still didn't have her. Besides, nobody actually read those posters anyway, the Cardinal's men were no match for the musketeers, and she had warrants out for her capture for nearly a year now, ever since her father died.

Jacqueline looked over at her comrad. D'artagnan sat astried his horse, looking intently at the path in front of him. There was something about him that jacqueline was jelous of, wherever he went, he was always optomistic.

To d'Artagnan, however, she mistook optimisim for determination. Determination for her safety. He felt her stare and turned just in time to see her look away. This was always how it was between them. She was almost always finding some excuse to avoid him. _She's shy around me,_ D'Artagnan thought sadly. A year ago it wouldn't have mattered to him. He liked alll girls. And he liked ones who put up a fight most of all. He used to think Jacqueline was playing hard-to-get, but now he realized that she was just uncomfortable around him. He suspected that she disliked his knowledge of her secret, but there was nothing that could be done about that. He laughed, a little too loudly.

"Now what? You think this is funny?" she glared at him. He just shrugged. "A little." Now she looked upset again. "I;m sorry, I din't mean that. It's just that you always seem to be running from something, weither it be the Cardinal's guards, or me." Now he looked upset. He thought she was about to say soething then. Her lips parted and she looked into his eyes, but noi sound came out. She looked back at the road and continued on.

I'll get ot out of her somehow. I promise, someday she will tell me everything. One day she will love me as much as I do her.

Chapter Two

Ok, I promise that Jacqueline's so-called "treason" will be revealed, but first I want to continue my story with a little part about Ramon and Siroc. Next chapter, I swear! This one's short too, so enjoy! 

The barracks were uncommonly empty when Duval awoke. Siroc's lamp was on. He could see the light streaming from the crack under the door. He knocked, wondering why no one was practicing. No answer. Just then, a pile of feathers swept past his nose. He would have been upset, but what he saw next was too amusing for anger.

Ramon ran around the corner, hands in the air, Siroc following, holding a pot. About four or five musketeers trailed behind him, looking quite alive. They chased it back and forth though the garrison. Duval wanted to help, truly, but it was all just too much for him. He was nearly on the floor and his side ached from all the laughter this scene entailed.

This spirited assembly was abruptly ended when Ramon, with a triumphant yelp, caught the chicken mid-jump. Cheers rang out and Ramon bowed. Siroc wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and Duval began to clap. The musketeers turned to him, mumering apologies.

"Do not fret, young musketeers, I needed that. I have never felt so alive in a long time."


	2. Chapter 2

As Jacqueline rode alongside D'Artagnan that night, she couldn't help thinking of all of their friends back at the garrison. It would be about supper time right now. Ramon would probably be standing on a table, reciting his latest work; Siroc would be at the far corner at that same table, nose buried in his notebook; and the rest of their comrades would be scattered amongst the tables, chatting and listening to the musicians in the corner of the cafe. Suddenly, Jacqueline shivered; the Cardinal's guards would be there too, watching, waiting for something to happen so they could stir up even more trouble for Duval. But she knew Duval and she knew that, no matter what happened, he would be there for his men. There was nothing to worry about with him in charge. He was the whole reason she was in the forest right now rather than in some cold cell. He had helped her escape, putting both his job and his own life in danger for one of his own.

That just made everything seem worse. Knowing what lengths her friends would go to for her, all the while keeping a secret from them that would cost all of them a lot more than any sentence Mazarin could come up with alone. She knew it was best to keep them in the dark. It was the only way to keep them safe from the Cardinal. And yet, for months it had been eating away at her. At least she had D'Artagnan. No matter how mad she was at him just then, she would never be able to express how wonderful and relieving it was to know she had someone to share her secret with.

She looked over at him and smiled inwardly at the expression on his face. Still wearing that I-can-conquer-anything smile, he looked every bit the cocky nobleman he was trying to portray. She glanced down at herself and the lavender silk dress she was wearing. She had to admit, they both looked the part: he the young nobleman just home from his honeymoon and she his blushing new bride. For what had to be the millionth time that night, Jacqueline found herself once again imagining what it would be like if the pair truly _were_ married. But, once again, she quickly shook the thought from her head. There was no use dwelling on what could never be. And that was true now more than ever. As soon as they reached their destination, D'Artagnan would leave her and return to Paris. She would never see him again, no matter how much he tried to convince her otherwise. Mazarin was a very powerful man. There was no way they would be able to clear her name. She was, and forever would be, a fugitive.


End file.
